Being awaken with a cup of tea, the "wake-up tea".
It is day time, but the sun will take several hours yet to rise above the incredibly high mountains.
Refreshing, or trying to, in a chilly cold river. Walking along the Ganga river in a sacred place, passing pilgrims wearing saffron robes. "Namaste!". Being witnesses of the change of vegetation, from the jungle to the pine woods, until finally a desert. Avoiding the rocks thrown to the path by the mouflons.
Drinking constantly to avoid altitude sickness... "more masala tea, please!". Taking strategic strolls to acclimatize. Eating vegetarian food cooked with water from the Ganga river. It’s surprisingly varied and abundant!
Walking in silence, concentrated to avoid slipping, looking up to discover new summits of disturbingly vertical walls and uncalculable height after every curve, listening the trekking mates as they sing, sometimes in Spanish, sometimes in English, even in French and Hindi...
Enjoying all this with fantastic people! Carlos, Javi, Jose, Juan, Lina, Lorene, Nicolas, Toñi. Team spirit, laughter, friendly atmosphere, a common goal, mutual understanding, altruistic help. All for one and one for all. The privilege of listening to stories of summitting and descending Everest first hand... The great service of the guides... Joining an expedition during the approach to the base camp!
Encountering a glacier for the first time. Feeling tiny. It’s a sacred place, totally worth it!
Further above it is all solitude: a large slope of inhospitable piled rocks constitutes the frontier with the last remnants of the civilized world. We have to climb it, looking for the cairns that mark the correct path. A porter smiles, mumbles something in Hindi and offers me his hand in some complicated pass...
Nandanvan Valley. Peace. The silhouette of Mount Shivling stabbing the sky... Are there any words...? It’s a serene, chilly, solitary, immaculate place, surrounded by several 7000 m high peaks, but with no water in the lake. Acclimatization day that had to be skipped. Pity.
Walking uphill alone along a ridge for several kilometers. Feeling of isolation, almost helplessness 4500 meters... the air is thin... s-l-o-w-l-y progressing, the body asks to keep calm... however, feeling breathless... surreal, otherworldly sensations... Enjoying a unique moment in an even more unique environment!
Starting to feel tired (physically, mentally...?), but stopping is not a choice, as the night is threatening... Where does this ridge end? Why can’t I see the base camp? Regretting that the ridge starts narrowing. That I have to step on the snow without the appropriate shoes. Feeling like the ground is fading beneath my feet. Abyss. "Do I really have to walk on that?"... The fear even greater due to fatigue?) is not acceptable, as my legs would shake... not here! Moving on...
Descending to the glacier, getting back my concentration, that had been leaving me due to the lack of oxygen: no tumbling here! crossing on the ice (is it slippery, or not?) climbing the glacier without looking down...
The sound of the drops from the melting glacier disturbing the silence of a truly remote place...
The final surprise of a rope hanging from an almost vertical rock wall... There’s nothing I can do! Strength comes out of nowhere, or maybe skill? I still don’t understand how...
The view of the base camp, finally, at the bottom of the valley... TREMENDOUS day!
Base camp, a secluded and incommunicated place. Playing cards at -10 °C... My fingers do not react. My words do not come out. Holding a hot cup of tea to revive my hands... Having to stop the card game.
Watching the phases of the Moon, calculating the days... they say that weather changes with the new moon... Crossing the fingers... Searching the sky for constellations masked behind an infinite amount of stars, with no success because the cold prevents me from stopping outside... Pity!
Paralyzing temperature of -8 °C inside the tent when going to sleep. How cold will it get outside during the night? -20 °C, -25 °C...?
Curling up in the sleeping bag. Waiting. Waking up in the middle of the night with an avalanche sound. Or with a headache. Listening to the sound of the snowflakes like projectiles on the tent. Otherwise, SILENCE.
Finding my belongings frozen in the morning... Everything that can freeze.
Count to three to dare to undress, refresh and get dressed again quickly.
Watching the porters, some of them wearing flip-flops up here, at 5000 m, as they prepare supplies and material for the higher camps. Nervousness in the alpinists, curiosity in the trekkers.
Exploring the surroundings of ice and rock, get a glimpse of some serac hanging up there, trying to see the Satopanth mountain with no success, trying to put this place on the map, to understand the colors of the glacier. It does not like like in the textbooks... Again, feeling insignificant.
Saying goodbye in a hurry (ow!) to six brave alpinists who stay here to try to ascend a 7076 m high peak. Two kilometers closer to the sky!
Returning to civilization after two long days of descent and another two on the road. Being able to tell it. Feeling strange when coming back to a shower, a bed, Internet... My hands, still burned from the frost, remind me it was not a dream.
We return, but nothing will be the same. No one of us will be the same.
